Bones
by Rotten Girl Adel
Summary: Years after the fall of the devil king Oda Nobunaga, Kai's peace is shattered by a new threat of war on the horizon. The cub of Kai, Yukimura falls victim to this evil and must make a choice; the love of his lord or the love of a monster. (Hiatus)
1. Prelude

This fic is currently undergoing an intensive rewrite. Chapters will be updated as they are completed. This fic is also available on AO3 under the pen name Frailty Collapse. Thanks for sticking with us, and I hope you enjoy the new, revised version of Bones!

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><p><strong>Bones<strong>

The year was 1585. As the chill from the surrounding mountains glided down to the valley, the leaves began changing from their usual lush green to a brilliant vermillion, signaling the coming winter. The land of Kai was once again at peace, having not seen the carnage of battle in some time. The surrounding provinces had become content with their land, their resources sufficient for the colder season. And since the fall of their mutual enemies, none saw fit to continue to push their borders. Not even the rival Uesugi clan saw fit to leave the mountaintops for a duel, contented with the knowledge that they both had their strengths and there need not be any further bloodshed.

For this, Takeda Shingen was grateful, for even as the mountain of Fuji stood eternally watching over their land, a symbol of infinite strength and wisdom, the lord of the land found his own strength dwindling.

He would not admit that his age was beginning to creep up on him; he was only in his sixties, after all, and his position did not allow him the luxury of slowing down. And yet, the times had begun to take their toll. Now the proud general spent his days watching his young students practice in the courtyard. They were his legacy in physical form, the future of Kai, of Japan; far better than an ailing man, wasting away from illness. His own body was fighting a battle against itself, and even as the doctors did their best to treat him, it was becoming apparent that it was a war he could not win.

Truly a pitiful fate for a man known as the formidable Tiger of Kai, whom had fought to keep the borders of his small province against the demons themselves.

In spite of the illness that caused even his breath to bring him pain, there was at least one glimmer of light in his life: a young man, the son of one of his esteemed captains lost in the war, Sanada Yukimura.

He watched as the boy, only barely a man, danced across the courtyard, sparring with his fellow students with the grace of an Odori dancer. Takeda had taken the boy under his wing at a young age, training him in the ways of the samurai. From his youth he showed an affinity for spears, and would not be satisfied with simply wielding one in battle. No, Yukimura had always wanted to impress his lord, and so took to training with two, and mastering the skill if only to receive the praise of his beloved general. He had succeeded thus far, earning him the informal title of Takeda's protégée, and in some circles, the Tiger Cub of Kai. The general could not be more proud.

For his youth, Takeda had always been confident in the boy's skills. Even as he hung back in battle, allowing the captains and soldiers to play out the skirmish as he watched, he could count on Yukimura to lead his troops to victory.

"Oyakata-sama!" As if his very thoughts had summoned the young warrior, Yukimura had broken away from the training group and run to visit with his lord. "Has your condition improved?" He asked, remaining hopeful even as the inevitability of his lord's fate loomed ever closer. Dispite this, Takeda refused to put a damper on the boy's fiery spirit. He was so young and worried far too greatly for his ailing master. The great lord could not in good conscience allow Yukimura to fret as he did. The saying 'be as a bird, show not your weakness in good company or bad' came to mind. It was errily fitting. "I shall not let this take the tiger out of me, Yukimura, I assure you." He answered, voice still raspy from a night of unyielding coughing fits.

The boy was understandably pleased by the news - So pleased that he'd failed to note the gruff wheeze lacing his lord's words. Overjoyed, even, as it brought tears to his eyes. "Oh, Oyakata-sama! I am so glad to hear it!" The boy's tendency to be reduced to blubbering tears often irked his lord; a mighty captain wasn't to cry so easily. He remembered the day he had earned his adult name where he had cried openly in front of his fellow vassals, so grateful to be given such an honor. It was endearing, however, to see him so jubilant over the prospect of a potential recovery for his lord, no matter how futile such a prospect could be. Takeda toyed with the idea of punching the boy in the jaw just to knock him out of the tearful spell, as he often did just to attempt to toughen the boy out of the habit, but let it slide, for now.

"Yukimura, return to your post. You must remain in top shape if you are to one day lead the clan against our enemies. Do not disappoint me!" Takeda bellowed, the effort itself causing him to cough. This went thankfully unnoticed, and Yukimura quickly hopped to his feet, determined. "I will make you proud, Oyakata-sama!" He announced before skittering off with the energy of a hyperactive kitten. Tiger Cub of Kai, indeed.

Takeda continued watching over his students, smiling fondly as they continued to improve their skills with one another's aid. He contemplated sleep until another subordinate appeared before him, swift as a night breeze.

From the trees came a man clad in the green and camouflage typical of his troop, the green markings across his face meant to help keep them hidden in the forest. Takeda did not look his way as he spoke, "Your report, Sasuke."

"It is as you suspected, _Taichou_." The ninja began, his head bowed and body crouched as he gave his report, "There is definitely activity in the area surrounding Aoba Mountain… I believe _he_ is involved."

His suspicions confirmed, Takeda grew impossibly paler. "Of all times… Why must he emerge now?" Even the normally strong and poised leader was overcome with despair at the thought. He immediately turned to the ninja, barking orders. "Sound the horns. Tell the captains to assemble all able men with their best gear. We cannot allow history to repeat itself!" Takeda lumbered to his feet, intent on donning his own armor and joining the front line. The ninja looked up with a faint sense of worry, "Oyakata-sama, perhaps you should reconsider…"

"There is no time for reconsideration when that one is involved! Yukimura!" belted Takeda, standing at full height in the doorway to his quarters. "Ready yourself for battle! We head to Oushuu immediately!"

"Oushuu…?" Perplexed, Yukimura blinked at the man. Oushuu was an abandoned land, forbidden by the surrounding lords to even trespass through without permission. What could they possibly do there? But Yukimura was not about to question his lord's orders; he had sworn loyalty to the Takeda just as his father before him and would follow him until he took his final breath. His practice robes were traded for his red battle armor, his harmless sparring rods for his trusty spears, and Yukimura joined the rest of the troops.

That eve, Takeda stood atop the grassy knoll that overlooked his fortress, thinking of what was to come, and what would become of his people. Knowing that the battle would be arduous, he had sent Sasuke's team out to scout the area ahead of time. The man could cover thrice the ground he could in half the time, and was a vital member of his team.

When he returned, however, his word was not as he would have hoped.

"Taichou, I come with news."

"What is it, Sasuke?" the general replied solemnly. He did not turn towards the ninja, his eyes fixed on the field, the town. His troops, brave men ready to fight for their lord's cause, gathered in the courtyard for their briefing. Three hundred men whom had been roused from their beds would head for Oushuu this night, travel one week's time to the cursed northern city and drive the hellish dragon back into the darkness.

These men who would die for him, at his command, for the hope of a better Japan now kissed wives and children goodbye while they still dreamed soundly in their bedrolls, some never to be seen again. The thought worried deep lines into Takeda's brow, creased his aging eyes and tensed his enormous form. His great crossed arms tightened their hold, his grip on each arm increased. Was the price worth the reward?

Sasuke spoke. "My scouts inform me that Date is not far off. Just two miles from here."

"What?!" Takeda exclaimed in a whisper so harsh a cough was caught in his throat. He squashed it down, swallowed thick to keep it at bay, lest it become a fit. This could not work. He was too far gone. "How did he elude us?"

"That is unclear." The ninja spoke quietly, as if the night itself would hear their conversation and whisper their secrets to cause panic amoung the already wary troops. His eyes were on them as Takeda's were - on one particular one. The redclad boy of a warrior who was eagarly chattering with a few other men. Yukimira, Sasuke's charge and dear friend. He would not have wished for a boy so young to run headlong into a battle such as this, not like this, against the dragon of Oushuu. His worry was immeasurable, far outweighing his pride.

Nothing could be done for it. He was so strong already at his tender age of nineteen. There was no reason to keep him from the fight. In truth, it would have been more of a hinderance than a benefit to refuse him.

A soft, low rumble of a hum came from his lord at his side. Takeda, it would seem, had similar thoughts. His eyes were as Sasuke's were, on the young charge. His frown deepened. "Are the men ready?" The query held a secret question, one easily deciphered by the ninja - was _he_ ready.

Sasuke turned his eyes finally sideways, to his commander, and offered a slight smile. "Yes, sir." There was no hope, no backing out. This was as it must be. Yukimura would have to be ready, for this battle and for his task. Takeda knew this well. He could not hope to defeat what lie ahead. All their bets for a victory lay with the crimson warrior.

"Prepare to move out, Sasuke. We take the demon at dawn."

This couldn't work. They were unprepared, so little time was afforded. But this was all that could be done. Now or never.

For the future.

"Yes, sir."

Before the sun rose, the entirety of the Takeda Army was mounted and headed north.

But to where? Takeda had only given brief instruction before ordering their movement to the supposedly lordless castle. It was not long before the chatter of the worried soldiers rose among the troops.

"A demon… He's taking us to fight a demon!" One surmised, his voice shrill.

"A demon? Impossible, Nobunaga lies in the opposite direction!" Countered another, more confident soldier.

"Not him, you fool! Nobunaga was slain three years back!" The shrill man continued, "I heard from my father that a demon resides in Oushuu!"

"Your father must have had too much drink. I find no merit to that claim!"

"You there!" At the head of the troops, Takeda came to a full stop, turning to face his men to silence their chattering. "We are off to face the rival and sworn enemy of all the land; the Date Clan!"

The name caused a wave of murmurs to erupt among the soldiers. The Date Clan… No one had seen or heard of them for forty years! "In my youth, I fought alongside many proud warriors to push back the forces of the Date Clan, who seek the take our land and all others for themselves. We succeeded, and now shall do so again!"

The murmurs rose into a collective din of questions. If they had been defeated two scores ago, how was it they had risen in power now? Where had they been all this time? What did Takeda know that they didn't? "It is our duty to protect the land of Kai from those who seek to defile it. And so we meet our enemy by dawn and crush him! The purifying rays of the rising sun will send them back from whence they came!"

The men rose up in nervous, yet rancorous cheers. Even Yukimura did his best to rally the troops in spite of their fear and confusion. While no one voiced it, many thought their commander to have lost his mind from illness, or even old age, but they would follow him for their loyalty, if nothing else.

It was their duty as members of the Kai Army to stay by their lord's side.

As the moon traveled higher into the sky, Yukimura finally called for his lord's attention. "Oyakata-sama…" Takeda regarded him with a stiff nod, not daring to speak, as weary as he was. "You should rest. You have stood watch all night while still recovering from your illness." Yukimura urged, careful with words, knowing the tension among the group was already at its highest.

"Yukimura," Takeda's voice was rough as he called his protégée's name. He could feel himself swaying atop his steed in spite of his attempts to remain upright. "Do you believe yourself ready to lead the Kai Army?"

"Oyakata-sama?"

Takeda pulled his horses in front of Yukimura's affectively stopping the procession. "If I were to hand control to you, could you face a foe you know nothing of? Could you face someone who was said to have perished when I was a lad? Could you handle it, Yukimura?"

"O-Oyakata-sama..." The boy was taken aback at first by the man's sudden questioning, but wasted no time in reaffirming his willingness to fight. "I will, Oyakata-sama! For the honorable clan of Takeda, I, Sanada Genjirou Yukimura, will rise to the occasion and fight off the formidable Date Clan!"

With his words a smile stretched across the weary man's face. This boy, so determined in his ways, young and fearless…

So foolish.

Takeda had little time to muse about his protégée's naiveté before his balance suddenly left him, his hulking body tumbling from his horses onto the grass below. The army behind him erupted into an uproar of questions and fear. Their lord had lead them to the battlefield, then suddenly collapsed, leaving them to face an opponent they knew nothing about.

And Yukimura, whom was still a boy himself, was now to lead the army to victory. In spite of his commitments to his now unconscious lord, the young captain's resolve seeped away, replaced by toxic self-doubt.

There was no time to plan an attack. No time to strategize or contemplate maneuvers among his fellow captains.

As the sun was still more than an hour from rising, their enemy appeared.


	2. The First Fight

The rumble of horses was absent that early morn save for the impatient stamping of those few uneasy steeds of the Takeda army. All was quiet, eerily so - the only sound that resonated throughout the field was that of the wailings sobs of a panicked vassal. Yukimura was knelt beside the fallen form of his lord, crying out in agony and fear. The men around him were restless, anxious. Takeda had fallen, succumbed to his illness. Who would lead them now?

From the shadows of the fading night rose an army of azure over the hill crest. Strange how they didn't make a sound. Where the echo of footfalls marching together in unison should have been there was nothing. Like ghosts they came from the pre-dawn mist. The Takeda army stood shocked into silence, all eyes now on the figures coming ever closer. Imaginations ran wild through the ranks, ideas of ghastly creatures, monsters at the dragon's disposal came to mind. Horrifying images. How curious when this was not the case.

The first few came into the faintest span of torchlight - a disorganized gathering of men dressed in various adaptations of armor and hometown garb, western decorations and strange hairstyles. Most sported a katana at their hip, some a spear, some a flag. More and more filed in, even more stood in waiting in the shadows, their armor faintly illuminated in the gentle light of the crescent moon. They seemed to be nothing more than a large band of roughians! Surely this was not the Date army of which the Takeda forces had found quarter in decades past. But something was... off. Be it the way they moved or how their gazes fell, but something was not right. It was subtle, perhaps only a trick of the light, but not a single one looked to be focused on anything save for the targets in front of them. All that was needed was an order. Alarming, but there was one more thing; they would not come into the light. It was almost as if they were abstained from it, repulsed. But why?

The sight sent a chill through the red-clad men. And those eyes, the light which reflected from them. It was almost as if they were shining, like an animal awaiting its prey in the dark. What kind of creature had such deviants in their employ? Even Yukimura was forced to give pause in his mourning to ponder this musing. Men like this had once threatened the way of life within his home of Kai. These men now threatened to do the same. And with his lord out of commission, the burden of protecting that way of life now fell squarely on the tiger's shoulders. His perspiring fists clenched and his teeth ground with his frustration, the gravity of his burden. _I must press on!_ The boy declared to himself. _I will not let Oyakata-sama down!_He was prepared. He could do this. He could fight in his master's stead and he would defend these men.

Yukimura rose to his feet with renewed resolve. He would do this - he would face down the One-Eyed Dragon of Oushuu. "My jumonji-yari!" he called, and not a moment too soon. Somewhere in the darkness the pounding of a single horse's gallop could be heard, slowly getting louder. Was he here? Had the demon lord which plagued his master's darkest days of old come to face him? The cub watched with wide eyes, staring into the blackness as if he could will his very eyes into seeing through the night for this man, this devil. His heart jumped as he was just able to make out the outline of a man on horseback not far off, heading his way, only to lose it in the sea of leering figures and the torches light.

He could still hear it - closer and closer it came, like the quickened pounding of a drum, like the pounding of his heart in his chest, threatening to burst out and reveal his fright to the world.

Then a silhouette appeared to him. The sound slowed to a walk. He could hear the crunch of the dirt and grass under the hooves of the great animal. It was only when the man came into the light that Yukimura's heart made any hint towards slowing. This man, presumably leader of the army of Oushuu, was not as the cub had expected by any account. He was tall and his hair was slicked back, his face battle hardened and stern. One cheek held a deeply etched scar, something long-ago healed and still held a darkened discoloration. He did not wear the foreboding blue of his clan's army but instead dressed in something not unlike a westerner's fashion. A brown decorated duster and more traditional armor, two katana fastened to his belt. Was this the famed leader of Oushuu? The demon they now sought to fight?

The boy had expected a monster by all the whispers he had heard throughout the eve! By the way his lord spoke of this dragon he had imagined a creature not unlike the Devil King of Sixth Heaven. But this...

The horseman's eyes shifted over the fearful army of red-clad men, his brow set in a form that in itself was intimidating. What was he looking for? He glanced momentarily towards Yukimura - paused, as if contemplating something - before his eyes fell on the unconscious form of his lord, the men that tended to him. The frown deepened. The hand that held the reigns of the man's horse tugged, guiding the beast backwards to turn. Was he leaving? What would happen now? Would the order be given to retreat for honors sake and the battle be postponed? Or perhaps Date would lead a full charge against them with the intention of taking Kai for himself and disposing of his lord in his delicate state?

These thoughts served to stir something within the young tiger cub, a desperate fear. In near panic he rushed forward before the man could leave, ignoring Sasuke's call for him to remain. Jumonji at the ready, Yukimura dashed into the darkness towards the stern man. He skidded to a stop just meters before his horse, arms and weapons held out at his sides, effectively halting him.

A swift tug on the reigns was enough to keep the startled beast under control. The man before him, however, was just as surprised as his horse at the cub's advance. He stared but a moment with eyes slightly widened before his expression shifted to its former sternness.

Yukimura took advantage of this moment, for it may have been his only window. Putting aside his own wary thoughts, as well as his safety, he focused solely on his goal. He sought answers from this enemy of whom he had only recently been informed existed, and he would have them. "Date!" he addressed the man, his voice loud and firm. He would not back down now. His lord, nay, his people depended on him. "What will you do now? What are you planning?"

The man was unmoved by his words. Yukimura could just barely see it in the near total darkness his eyes perceived. Perhaps he had been too hasty in his attempt to prevent Date's leave. Half blinded from his light-adjusted eyes, he had given the enemy an unwitting opening if they were so bold as to take it. It served to startle him all the more when there were no blades nor to much as a threat aimed his way - merely words. "Takeda Shingen has fallen before our arrival," came a deep voice just as stern and cold as the man's expression. "As such we have no need to engage your meager force. We will bypass you and take Kai as planned."

The tiger cub stared with eyes and mouth agape at the man who seemed little more than a foreboding shadow now. He was completely astounded. The shear heartlessness of the man's words weighed on him. How could anyone be such an honorless blaggard? Yukimura could not for the life of him fathom such a person. _What a cruel general, this Date...!_

With the danger of his home imminent, Yukimura shook himself of his stupor. _I can't let this happen! _His grip on his weapons tightened, his hands shook and heart pounded with resolve. _I won't let this monster take my home!_

Date suddenly found the blades of the tiger's twin jumonji poised at his throat - or what the boy assumed was his throat. His eyes had yet to adjust. It mattered not. The message was clear by this gesture, by his expression. The resolve, the fire within those large chocolate eyes narrowed with anger was more than proof of his dedication. "You will not!" the boy shouted, loud enough to surprise even his own troops who stood at the ready. Such fierceness from the tiger cub. Sasuke himself stood momentarily in awe.

"You will fight me, Date! One-on-one!" What was he proposing? "You will be defeated and you will return to the North without ever setting foot in Kai! I, Sanada Yukimura, will see you retreat!" A bold move to say the least, and with the Date having the upper hand, it was little more than foolish. The Takeda ranks behind them were frightened, disorganized and without a proper leader to instruct them. Trained as they were, they were not fit to make their own decisions.

One had to wonder if Yukimura had considered this fact at all before making his rash statement. Sasuke could only watch in horror as his charge singlehandedly bet the fate of his very clan on his own ability. The boy was no doubt strong enough to lead, to concur all in his path. But not this, not the demon. This was a fight that would not be won.

The tension between the vassal and Date was growing. Since the cub's bold statement the man had said not a word, only continued to watch him with that cold gaze. But there was more to it. He was calculating, considering something. What that something was remained a mystery to Yukimura. Blinded by his outrage he was becoming more and more upset by the man's silence. How dare he - to insinuate his intent to take his lord's land without so much as a skirmish, only to show him a cold shoulder. He wanted to shout, to give him a piece of his mind, but then-

A shiver went through him. Cold shot right through his body, down to his chest, fizzling the flames of anger. With his eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light Yukimura finally noticed something he hadn't before. Just when had Date's men gotten so close to him? They were but shadows, the only hint of depth beneath the cool glow of moonlight against their armor, to which the boy could now see was damaged, dirty. He braved a look towards them, his eyes leaving his target in spite of his better judgments.

It was then he saw that he was surrounded. Fight or flight instinct set in and his jumonji were held before him, the boy ready to defend himself if needs be. What a careless mistake he'd made! - A mistake immediately forgotten when a curious sound hit his eardrums. It was faint at first, then gradually louder as the shadows neared. A soft hiss, like an animal's when set to strike, came over his senses. It was all around him, he realized. It was coming from the shadows, the men themselves.

Steadily louder, steadily nearer. The shadows undulated - it was difficult to pick out one individual from the crowd. Yukimura was losing his resolve. What were they doing? These men, these... creatures! Were they planning on ambushing him here in the dark where he could not see properly enough to fight? The hissing was at his back now, along with another sound. A gargling kind of noise, very soft, like a rabid thing salivating without control.

And then something touched him.

The boy gave a shout and turned, brandishing his weapons while his feet guided him backwards not of his own accord. This was shameful, to act this way upon a battlefield. To show such fear was- "S-Stay back!" His thoughts cared nothing for honor at that very moment. Self-preservation had taken him over, the need to fend off these things that came from the night itself. "I want no quarter with you! I request a fair fight against the leader of the Date!" He words were useless, for they were panicked and laced with the trembling of his body. Why were they not listening to him? Were they deaf? Blind? Crazed?

He was touched again, this time something grabbed at his hair, the long ponytail that hung at his back. It was met with an attack. The boy spun his duel weapons as he turned his body sharply from the advance, felt them connect with a crack. He'd expected to feel satisfaction, or at least some mild sense of safety. He felt none, for a cry had not been heard, not even a grunt of pain. There was only a release of rasping breath, a wheezing gasp. The fear instilled in the cub increased tenfold. What... What are these things?

Not a moment too soon another sound entirely hit his ears, so loud it visibly made the boy flinch- "All units advance! Push back the Date! Protect Sanada-danna!" Sasuke. Yukimura was grateful he had finally given the order to attack. Shameful as it was to admit, his attempt at defending his home was a losing one.

The creatures forgot him immediately, focused now on the thundering mass of soldiers rushing them, the battle cries of the Takeda army. With this came an opportunity, one instantly taken - to fight the Date leader one on one, to take down this monster that threatened his people. He turned, jumonji poised-

There was a crash of metal on wood, one that knocked the boy off balance. He barely had time to right himself, to realize what had happened before another punishing blow came from the man's sword, which sent him flying into the hoard. He landed hard on the cold ground with a grunt, only to have the horde upon him. They grabbed at him, swung laboriously at him with their weapons. It was all the cub could do to get to his feet again without harm, his goal set in mind. He would engage the Date leader head on while his army took down this monstrous rabble.

His plan did go off, but there was a certain hitch. Yukimura made for an attack, only to spot the man fleeing on horseback through the ranks of men rushing against those of the Takeda. He was running? The coward! To think the Date lord that struck fear in the hearts of the Takeda was a scrupleless man of no shame. Yukimura felt his anger returning steadily. He would not allow this insult.

With a great battle roar he charged into the sea of shadows, planning to fight his way through and engage Date in combat. He would prove himself worthy of fighting in his lord's stead. He would defend Kai. With soul and ambition burning bright Yukimura set the battlefield both spiritually and physically ablaze with his heat. Each soldier in his way was met with flame and spearhead, the cub in a near dance, as if he and the weapons were one. Second nature.

He was quickly making progress through the hoard, much to his delight. With each swing and twirl of his jumonji another creature hit the ground. These men were hardly the skilled and experienced met that Yukimura had expected of the Date clan. Not a single injury had come to his person. So then why was he suddenly not making any headway? It was as if the waves of shadows never ended. The tiger growled. Had their leader sent in reinforcements? How many did he have at his disposal? Could this be where the Date got their strength? Certainly not from the skill of their warriors. _No! I must prevail! I must reach Date Masamune and fight him head on!_

His resolve would not waiver even in the face of ten thousand men. He had seen Date ride off past the endless sea towards the overlooking hilltops. If he could get past those who now lay before him he could follow and engage him there. He wasn't all that difficult to pick out now that Yukimura's eyes had adjusted – his blade shone bright with the moonlight reflecting off its surface. No, there had been two, two reflections hit the corner of his eye. Two people? Was he meeting someone there?

It mattered not. The tiger cub pressed on, feeling the rush of battle every time his polearms hit, every time he felt another body fly from his strike. He was still fighting relatively blind, his only illumination the fire brought forth from his surging energy that set the blades of his jumonji ablaze, only to be smothered out when the weapons connected with a target. But it did afford him some sense of direction, where to head and how many more were upon him. Brief flashes, too bright images. These men were not only crazed, they were possibly diseased. More than a few had horrible wounds inflicted, both old and new, scars and signs of decay. Lepers? No, impossible. No general would allow such an army on the field for fear of the disease spreading. It must have been something else entirely.

The idea of Date being a demon came back to memory, something he'd heard whispers about on their march that evening. His thoughts were interrupted violently, his parry ineffective. A body slammed against him, knocking the cub off balance. He hit the ground sharply, the impact jolting the air from his lungs. Coughing and gasping for breath Yukimura skittered to his feet, only to find he'd lost his weapons in the attack. Panic once again enveloped his mind. _My jumonji! Wh-where are they?!_ He all but threw himself to the ground, still very much struggling to catch his breath as his hands desperately searched in the darkness for the twin weapons.

The hoard was gathering again - just how many were there? They were clawing at him, scratching his exposed skin, grabbing at his hair. The cub could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his throat as he gasped a breath and exclaimed— "Get away from me!" They did not. He had to resort to desperate means, using fists and legs and his strength to shove them away from his person as he continued his search.

And then finally, finally his hand touched the familiar pole handle. He pulled it towards himself immediately, gripped it tight so it would not be lost again. It was only one, but it would have to do. Yukimura couldn't afford to waste any more time seeking out its mate. They were upon him again. The cub sat up, poised himself to strike.

And then he felt the teeth.

A great cry erupted from the battlefield – the surprise, the sudden intense pain was more than enough to make the cub cry out. The fiend was knocked away by a swift punch before the frightened boy scrambled to his feet. That man, he had bitten him. He could feel the blood running down his arm from the wound. Yukimura stared wide eyed into the darkness, his shallow breaths trembling. _What kind of a__—_ It happened again, this time from behind. Teeth sunk into his armored calf, jolting the cub. Such pressure! So much so that he'd felt the pinch through the metal plating. This one was kicked away, only to have another come from the side. And another.

The jumonji shot out, spearing one while another was shoved off. _They're trying to eat me!_ The spear-end was pulled from the body, the pole swung to strike another. _Th-they're trying to EAT me!_ He felt the scratches again, the hands on him. Too many had gathered, he knew that now. More were coming. Where were the other soldiers? Where were the Takeda? Hadn't anyone gotten this far? Had anyone else been attacked like this? Yukimura didn't have time to think about it. He had to fight, to get away. He had his goal set, hadn't he? Find Date and defeat him. He had to keep focused.

He swung again, only to miss the intended target. Had there been one? Anyone, anything in this sea of undulating shadows with scarred faces and dead eyes. It was becoming more and more difficult to lift his remaining weapon. His strength was leaving him. How long had he been fighting? He didn't know. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. He only preyed the sun would rise soon and end this nightmare.

He felt a hand grab for him from the darkness and responded with fire and spear. The soul was willing, but the body was failing. Yukimura had yet to recover from his meeting with the dirt. Another came for him and again his jumonji flew, alight with flame as the cub sent the creature to his maker. _Ah but__...__ hold on, what was_... The light. They shied from it. For each time he'd used his flame the creatures had fallen back but briefly. This was his chance! It wouldn't be for long. His energy would run out soon if he continued on. But this was the only way.

He charged through the masses with fire, thrust and dodge, meeting each scratch and assault head on. His goal was set before him, just past this trial of strength and cunning – the fleeing Date leader. He only need keep fighting, press on through these monsters. His fire would lead the way. Strength waivered but his heart would not let him give up. Yukimura could feel it, that he was making progress. The area around him was clearing, the sea growing less and less dense with every strike. Another attack came, a sword swung down to strike. It was countered easily – a quick thrust, a twist, and he felt the blade catch between the forked blades of his jumonji. _Got you!_ The creature was relieved of its weapon with one rough jerk. A counter-assault came with fire, a swing that set it off balance.

_Now is my chance!_ He could see a path through them, illuminated for that split second before the fire went out. That was his escape. He must—wait, there was something else. Something had caught the corner of his eye, something that had chilled him to the core, given him pause. _That man- _Another that had met his spear _–Did I not put him down already?_ He hadn't the time to think on it. It was impossible, just his imagination. He was seeing things in the dark.

Focus set once more he parried the swiping arms of the creature before him, knocked them away with his pole arm. A great thrust, a sharp jab ended its life – Yukimura felt the forked blade sink in, felt the man go limp. _Just a little more_, he assured himself through his fatigue, his panting, ragged breath. A little more. He could fight this rabble off and— the boy paused.

It had gone quiet suddenly, the cub realized. He wasn't being attacked anymore. Had he put that many down? He could faintly see the bodies around him, the men laid to rest by his hand. This one as well, the one whom hung limp at spears end. Yukimura found himself repulsed, not only by his failing to allow the body to rest but with the scent that hit his nose. He smelled of death, of decay. The corpse stunk of it. How, when he had only died moments before? The cub's eyes focused on the limp figure he was struggling to keep upright, as if he could see through the darkness the very nature of the stench. It was far too potent to be the remains of a battle fought left on the broken and dirt ridden armor, and it had only arisen just now. As though piercing his body released the stink somehow. How could that be? The boy shook his head, sought to clear his mind before his strange fantasies took him over again. It was silly, just superstition. He moved finally to dislodge his jumonji—

A hand shot forward, a hard jolt shoved the cub backwards from spear's end, giving Yukimura yet another start. An attack? Had someone rushed him to free his brother in arms from Yukimura's blade? No. To his absolute horror, Yukimura realized it was no act of revenge nor another man come to aid his comrade. It was the corpse at the end of his jumonji that reached for him now with such vigor, teeth gnashing and arms flailing to strike their target. _Impossible!_

With a scream the corpse was shoved away – a loud, wet sound and a fine mist of fluids sprayed as the blade was dislodged. Yukimura scrambled backwards, his eyes wide and body cold with fear. His palms, his face were drenched with sweat, his knees shook. _That man__...__He could not have survived! My strike was true!_ In his panic the boy lost sight of the corpse, though his ears picked up the sounds it made as it struggled to its feet. The horrible smell remained, grew worse, suffocating. Chocolate eyes darted and spear was held at the ready, Yukimura desperately seeking the monster out.

The sounds were all around him now, at ground level, by the dead that lay there. What was happening? _Retreat. I have to retreat!_ The cub slowly pushed backwards, each trembling step careful, calculated. He felt his way back with toes and heel, stepping over bodies, wary of those behind him that could attack. It was so quiet now. All he could hear was his quickened breaths, the shifting plates of his armor as he moved, his foot falls, and that hideous wet gasping. It was coming closer. With a scraping, wheezing, dripping chorus it was getting closer.

The boy readied himself for the attack, for that creature to rush him once more. So focused was he that Yukimura nearly fell in his retreat when his foot hit something that had not been there before, causing a sharp gasp, a near loss of balance. His eyes darted down towards the object; a body. That hadn't been there before. He had looked, probed the area with his foot before each step. Then how?

Another sound off to his side. Yukimura's head turned towards it so quick his ponytail swung in time, the ends slapping at his thick leather jacket. What had made that noise? Was it that man? He could see more of them, in the shadows, walking aimlessly among the bodies of the dead. The cubs brows furrowed in confusion. Why were they no longer paying him any mind? Why were they just wandering, without so much as a glance his way, without aiding their fallen? He heard movement again – he ignored it, assumed the sound was nothing more than another of these monstrous men wandering at his back.

That was, until a hand grabbed at his thigh, catching his attention. Yukimura spun around, knocking the hand from his leg with his jumonji. He faced his attacker with weapon aimed. The corpse! He hadn't given it a second thought. A miscalculation in his steps, he was sure! No, it hadn't been a mistake. The body had crawled into his path. It was crawling towards him now, leaving long, wet, black trails of stinking blood that was illuminated in the moons light. It wasn't the only one – he could see that now. Those he had put down were struggling to their feet. Those who could not, had lost limbs or were too badly damaged were crawling his way, teeth bared and hands reaching.

It was all a blur after that. He had turned, he knew, run into the darkness as fast as he could. Hands clawed at him, those whom had previously ignored him, those previously dead rising to take revenge on the young cub. Forward he pressed, fear and adrenaline driving him, the desperation to survive, run and be free of this hell. He was bitten, scratched at. One of them grabbed his hair, taking a clump with it as Yukimura shoved it away. Somewhere he had lost the corded tie. His long hair fell loose over his back and shoulders, providing another opening to be caught.

He didn't know how he'd made it – it just stopped as sudden as it had all started. An opening in the sea, a window of opportunity taken. Yukimura burst from the nightmarish crowd at a dead run, into the night, into the forested outcropping that lay ahead. Trees whipped past his vision, the small slivers of moonlight through the treetops above. He didn't come to a stop for the longest time, until he was sure, completely positive that he was not being followed, that nothing else was coming for him.

He was safe now.

Safe. The cub took no comfort in that. His body was trembling, bleeding and sore. He only had one weapon left, the other lost somewhere back in that hell. He couldn't go back. His stomach retched at the thought of it, of those things. Those monsters – they had come back from the dead. No, they had never been alive to begin with. He understood now why they had been silent, had been clumsy, sluggish, disfigured. The Date army was an army of the dead.

His back hit a tree and he allowed himself to sink. His legs gave out, refused to function. He couldn't stop shaking, the thoughts of the event whirling through his mind at breakneck speed. With his single jumonji close Yukimura pulled a knee to his chest, hugged it tight to him with a trembling arm as the tears flowed. He had to go on. Date wasn't far off. He had to finish this. The clan was depending on him.

He couldn't, just couldn't will himself to his feet. _Oyakata-sama__..._ The boy buried rest his forehead against his knee and sobbed_. Please forgive this Yukimura__..._

"I have news, Masamune-sama."

"What is it, Kojuurou?" The stern-faced man nudged his horse into a walk to meet the shadowed figure before him atop a grey steed that was perched just before the cliff. Date Masamune sat with arms crossed over his chest, an impatient frown deeply set in his handsome features as his one eye overlooked the battlefield.

Katakura Kojuurou, his retainer, gave his report. "It was as the rumors suggested, my lord. Takeda Shingen has taken ill and had fallen before his army could make it to the battlefield." The way the man spoke denoted his disappointment, not for his own sake but for his lord's. To have come all this way for nothing was upsetting to say the least. The teen in his charge showed this well – his frown deepened into a scowl, his well-manicured brow creasing. Kojuurou could feel the dragon's anger resonate from his person in waves and sought to guide it. Nothing good would come of a tantrum ending in a bloodbath. "What shall be our course of action, Masamune-sama?"

Something to ponder, indeed, and ponder he did. A retreat would be useless after all this time, all the planning and waiting involved in this one attack. An advance would be just as useless without the revenge the dragon sought with such passion that the thought of it had awoken him so soon after his defeat. Perhaps he could take the province over as planned, keep Takeda alive to torment him? The thought crossed Masamune's mind, but such was the way of low lives and mad men. Those kind of actions would bring disgrace to the name of Date. Another tactic, then...

Masamune's expression softened a touch as his eye scanned the battlefield once more. Even far away he could see it, the slaughter. His men would destroy those whom attacked them in no time, cut down the Takeda army and consume them like a plague. And then they would move on to Kai. "Seems a shame..."-he spoke so soft that barely a mutter parted his pale lips.

His retainer, taken aback by this sudden mild display of nostalgia, questioned him. "Masamune-sama?" Could it be, perhaps, that the boy was as sentimental as he was brash and prone to anger? He himself hardly knew. Kojuurou had only known his charge personally a few short weeks. During that time there had been talk of revenge, of campaigns and war counsels. Between feedings, preparations and meetings the man had learned so little of Masamune, until this moment. This moment of pause, this hint of mercy was enough to speak volumes to him.

And then it was gone, just like that, with a soft, cheeky laugh, a smug grin. "Nothin'. Never mind." The teen turned to him now, tilted his head to meet the scarred man's gaze. There was something completely different now in that eye; a readiness, a need for action. "Let's go, Kojuurou." Blue-clad hips shifted, knees pressed and relaxed in well trained motions to guide his horse to back up, to turn. The dragon guided her to face away from the battlefield, back towards the mountain path that had lead the two men to this post. Kojuurou followed suit with a gentle tug on the reigns and Masamune took the lead as he guided his horse into a walk with a nudge of his heels into her side. "Let's get the party started. You instruct the men and we'll head right on into Kai."

"As you wish, Masamune-s—"

"Halt right there, Date Masamune!"

So sudden was the voice, one very familiar to the retainer, that both men brought their mounts to a jolting stop. From the way they had meant to go, the mountain path towards the ongoing battle, stood the boy Kojuurou had already become acquainted with; the young tiger of Kai. With his body bruised, bloody and only a single weapon at his side, Yukimura was ready to face down his foe. The dragon shifted his gaze over the damaged form clad in red and white, the exposed chest, the determined scowl. His thoughts immediately centered on the lack of armor – what kind of soldier dressed in such a way? That chest was an open target of soft flesh and toned muscle that would be pierced easily by a blade.

The boy was surely an idiot the dragon thought. To come here alone, unprotected and in a weakened state. But all too quickly these thoughts were banished by those eyes as they met his one. Such fire did Masamune see within their dusky brown depths, such resolve. It moved the dragon. Perhaps he was as brave as he was foolish. Pale lips turned up into a smirk, brandishing a hint of teeth. "Who the hell is this?" He could see the boy visibly twitch at his comment, something that instilled pleasure within him. It would seem their visitor was easily riled. Good.

Kojuurou, who found the red-clad one to be no more than a rather outspoken nuisance, took it upon himself to explain. "This boy is one of Takeda's men who I had encountered during my investigation of the front," he said with that same cold tone, as stern as his features. Sharp eyes glanced towards the young cub briefly before returning to the helmed man. "He is of little consequence. We should proceed."

"You..." Again the boy was taken aback by the boldness of the retainer, as was shown on his face. The rounded, delicate features slackened and his eyes widened momentarily, only to then tighten with a fierce scowl. "You insult me!" he exclaimed, showing the fire that lay beyond the doe eyes and tired body. His single jumonji was thrust forward, gripped tightly in both hands with blade pointed at the retainer. "I am Sanada Genjirou Yukimura, vassal to my lord Takeda Shingen who has entrusted in me the protection of Kai! And as such I will not allow you to take it!"

While the retainer thought no more of his statement than a pointless endeavor, the show pleased his lord greatly. Masamune was grinning wide from atop his horse, his crossed arms slack. A sharp bark of laughter pierced the air and the dragon let his arms drop. "That your way of offering your head, Sanada Yukimura?" Masamune called, arrogance laced in his tone.

The tiger faltered, his eyes shifting now to the man beside his supposed target. _This man.__.._ Clad in blue armor, his helmet bore the symbol of the crescent moon. Under that helmet a single eye arrested his gaze. The doe eyes widened once more in surprise. _Oyakata-sama mentioned this. The crescent! The one eye!_ In his haste Yukimura had mistaken the wrong man for his adversary. Dumbly he stared, his pole arm lowering slightly. "Could it be that you are the one-eye-dragon?" The idea itself seemed ludicrous- this boy being the demon lord of Oushuu. He was young, in his late teens perhaps, not quite twenty. A boy just as he himself was. It was impossible that this person could be the one to cause terror through Kai so many years ago.

Masamune was laughing again, smugly. "We've got a bright one here, Kojuurou," he commented, voice dripping with sarcasm. Yukimura growled. His anger was ignored as the dragon glanced sidelong towards his retainer, his arm resting on the handlebars that were tied to his mount in place of reigns. "Some vassal Takeda left his people with. I almost feel like I'm wastin' my time—"

"I have come to prove my worth as Oyataka-sama's next in line!" the boy countered with jumonji poised once more. "Come, let's have a match and I will show you! You will be defeated and return home!" A challenge, was it? Masamune couldn't help but feel elated. It may not have been the tiger himself, but this cub was more than willing to make the effort. His bravery was awarded as the dragon moved to dismount his horse, an action that surprised his retainer.

"Masamune-sama—"

"It's okay, Kojuurou," Date replied before a case could be made. He didn't want to hear any of the man's logic or talk of tactics. He wanted this battle. "I've been itching for a fight, anyway." As he set foot on the ground the man turned towards his challenger, a faint smirk tipping his lips. "But," Masamune spoke, moving every closer. "You being the only one getting something out of this isn't gonna work. So how about this?" And ultimatum? What was he planning? "If I lose I'll go home and leave Kai –" A good start, something to which the boy immediately nodded in agreement to. The dragon continued, "-But if I win," he paused, allowing Yukimura's mind to wander, to fear, to hope. The boy felt himself shiver. "You'll accept my **kiss**." Strange words. He didn't understand. He didn't care. If Date leaving Kai was the winning prize then nothing else mattered.

"I accept!" The dragon grinned. Yukimura, with heart pounding and tired body in position to attack, accepted the dragon's own invitation with a silent exchange; just what Masamune wanted to see.

A few paces more were taken toward the boy, a hand reached to the blades fastened at his hips while the other steadied the hilt – six blades. Why ever would a person need six swords? Could it be that he could wield all of them? No, impossible. Then to supply his need for replacement weapons? Did he expect them to break? To be lost in battle? Knocked from his hand? One could only guess, and Yukimura hardly had the time to think on such things now with his foe approaching.

"Keep away, Kojuurou," Masamune spoke over his shoulder as that hand slowly drew the blade from its home. "Don't interfere no matter what." With that his steps halted and the dragon slowly sunk into a stance, feet apart, both hands upon the hilt, katana raised with tip poised toward the red-clad one. "**Got it**?" What was that? A foreign language? Not one Yukimura himself knew.

"Yes, sir." But it appeared that the retainer did.

The dragon's smirk widened briefly, his eye narrowed. "Good." Yukimura nodded once in turn, took a slow breath. This was it – for his lord, his people. "Come on, then, Sanada," came Date's voice, the excitement already heavy in his tone. "I'll let you have the first strike."

_That's all you'll have_, thought the cub. He was wrong, very wrong. The boy rushed forward with a battle roar, jumonji aimed for the man's head, for his blind spot. A dash to the side, a great swing. He was so sure of his strike that it came as all the more of a surprise when it was met with a blade rather that the loss of a helmet. _Fast..__._ The boy sucked in a sharp gasp as he was forced back, tried again, thrust the blade of his spear to stab. _So fast!_

He missed, nearly lost his balance with the strength of the thrust. It was by Masamune's graces that he wasn't relieved of his head just then. Strangely, the man dashed back, made to strike again. Immediately Yukimura was on the defensive. "Why do you run away?!" he called, to which the dragon laughed.

"Are you an idiot?" he replied, eye following the boy's movements as he slowly circled. "Your energy is all used up. You're gonna die here if you keep this up." What was this? Was the infamous demon of Oushuu taking pity on him? Or was he toying with him, waiting for Yukimura to drop his guard so that he may strike him dead in one blow?

His outrage fueled, he dashed at the man again. His thrust was dodged – he tried again, again, over and over, putting all of his strength and speed into the attack. _I will hit him! I must! I must!_ Crash. The loud, piercing sound of metal-on-metal hit his ears and suddenly everything stopped. _Did I do it?_ He had! He could just see it, a deep gash in the dragon's helm. The cub couldn't help but smirk with pride over his small victory.

It was short-lived. A sharp slash, a snap of what must have been electricity knocked him back to struggle with his footing. Masamune advanced on him now, stopped short of him, swung. "Don't let your guard down." – It was blocked, barely, countered, parried. They parted again, only to join once more with a spark of light and flame that made the cub's hair stand on end and the dragon's eye sore. Was it possible that Date controlled an element as well? The contact of metal-on-metal once again resulted in another spark, a surge of lightning. So the dragon had mastered electricity.

This may be harder than I thought Yukimura mused as they ran at each other again.

All the while Kojuurou watched with a stern gaze as the two fought their way back and forth across the grassy summit. His hands held fast to the reigns of both horses, knees guiding his own to be still, to keep calm. Such a display, all in the name of fun, surely. Masamune, while a great and ruthless warrior, was young and brash despite his years. It was evident in how he played with the cub, allowed such a match to continue. It was all just for the thrill, he could see that now. With each jab and swing Yukimura was coming closer and closer to losing his footing, to tumbling over.

And then a cry caught his attention.

The dragon had waited patiently for him to slip up and took full advantage as Yukimura swung too wide, his waraji catching in the grass and his ankle rolled out from under him. Masamune charged him, sword jabbing out towards the cub with such speed that it was near impossible in his state to dodge. It took everything in him to block the attacks, to knock them away. He was quickly being backed into a corner, he knew. A tree was behind him, one he had noted out of the corner of his eye during the fight but hadn't thought to pay any attention to. He regretted this decision now. His heel hit one of the large roots, the jolt being just enough to break his concentration.

The pole arm was knocked to the side with one sharp slap of the dragon's katana, a second later he could feel only pain. Nothing else – not the chill of the morning air nor the crisp grass beneath his feet nor even the frigid breeze that blew through his hair and nestled in his jacket. All feeling, all senses were overwhelmed as the tip of that katana pierced his belly, sunk in.

Just as soon as it had come it was gone, leaving a red hot sting that burned his insides hotter than any fire he himself could conjure. His knees gave. He couldn't, he just couldn't will himself to stand any longer. He fell, but he did not hit the ground. Masamune rushed him again, slammed his back to the tree so roughly the tiger felt the air leave his lungs for the second time this night. Desperation filled him but his strength was null. He hadn't the ability to fight back.

And Masamune, with that cold eye staring him down, gave him no room to do so. Yukimura was powerless. His eyes lowered as he silently admitted defeat. He thought to plead, to at least be allowed an honorable death of seppuku for his disgrace, but the words caught in his throat. He could not make himself speak, his lungs gasping exhaustedly for breath against the dragon's chest weighing on him. Trembling hands rested on the tree at his back, fingers gripped and tugged at the bark. A useless effort, something to distract him from the pain.

He could feel the dragon's breath upon his face, slow steady as if he'd made no effort at all. It was soft, sweet even as he spoke – it smelled lightly of sake. "Looks like I win, Sanada Yukimura." _Don't remind me_, the boy monologued and hung his head further, his chin touching his chest. Masamune couldn't help but smile faintly, taking interest in his reaction. This boy was so humble now that he was exhausted and in pain. Curious. He let up somewhat, just enough to give the boy some room to breathe, which he took advantage of with a series of small, desperate gasps.

_He has a strong will to live_, though Masamune. His smile widened just a touch. He would see how far that will went. He allowed the cub some freedom, a hand releasing its hold to reach for the boy's collar, pulling it away from his shoulder, his neck. The action got Yukimura's attention. His head shot up with a tiny breath, his tired eyes widening somewhat as they met Masamune's one. "Wh-what are you doing?" he begged breathlessly, his voice trembling as his weakened body did.

The dragon obliged him his answer. "Holding up your end of the bargain."

The cub's confusion could not have been plainer. "I-I don't underst-and..."

Of course not. As the man had expected. So then why was he taking the time to explain it to him? Who knew? Sentiment, maybe. Or perhaps he found the reactions awarded to be amusing. His lips quirked into a small hint of a smirk, teeth exposed. Like this, being so close Yukimura could see them now. Though his vision had begun to blur he swore those teeth were abnormal, sharp like an animal's. His train of thought was lost when Masamune leaned closer. "I'm going to give you a kiss, Sanada Yukimura." A kiss? Even in the state he was in Yukimura could feel his face heating up. Why of all things would a man want to kiss his injured opponent? Was this some kind of game? A final joke to disgrace him before he took his head? He opened his mouth to protest, only to have his chin gripped by his remaining hand, his head forced to the side.

Now only pressed to the tree by the man's chest Yukimura thought to push away, to engage him again. He struggled, hands flew up to push at the man's sides, beat against them weakly. The dragon was not budged – the cub didn't know why he'd imagined he could be. He was so strong that it was overwhelming. He had no chance like this.

When Masamune leaned into him again the boy tensed once more, legs kicking and body flailing. From the corner of his eye he could just make out the sight of that mouth coming closer, open wide and teeth bared, descending on his exposed throat. Chocolate eyes went wide and he finally yelled. "S-Stop!" He did not. Yukimura flailed, his fists beat at Masamune's back.

Then came pain, a pain that stopped him cold – wet, sharp teeth seized his neck, pierced his flesh. A cry escaped him and suddenly the cub was no longer beating his fist against the man, but clinging with utter distress, his fingers gripping at the dragon's jacket. Panic filled him when he felt the dragon suck almost violently at the wound he'd made. He felt he was being crushed. Masamune was crushing him into the tree. He could feel the bark biting into his back, the bones of his shoulder blades digging harder and harder into the trunk. What was worse was the weakness, as if his very self was being drained from his body. In moments he was dizzy, lethargic. As it continued his limbs were becoming heavy. His grip loosened on Date's jacket, his hands slipped. He hadn't even the strength to wince when his hands hit the tree trunk as his arms fell to his sides limply.

So this was how it would end, to be killed by a man, a monster, with a kiss. It seemed almost funny, somehow ironic. Yukimura would have smiled if he could, if he had not felt the shame, the exhaustion he felt. Perhaps it was better this way, to fall into sleep in a peaceful state such as he felt now. Better than to live with the disgrace, for all to look down on him and shun him for being the one whom caused the destruction of Kai. _Oyakata-sama..._ His vision was fading, the blur worsened. _Please forgive..._ Was he going to die now? Just like this, that sounded just fine. _...__this Yukimura__..._

Through the haze he felt the wet pain that was Masamune's mouth leave his throat, the pressure lessen on his body. Then he was falling, tumbling down. He couldn't catch himself. He hadn't the strength. He hit the ground, and Masamune let him, stared down at him with that single eye. What he was thinking, Yukimura couldn't have guessed. He simply watched him from the grass, his half lidded eyes following his own, his expression. Masamune paused a long time, contemplating something as he stood over the man cut down and bleeding out on the ground under him.

When he did move Yukimura reached for him – surprising to say the least. Date had imagined he would give up now, would allow himself to die peacefully and that would be that. But this action befuddled him, made him curious.

It was gone in a moment, that expression, that interest. Masamune turned from the dying cub, ignored the hoarse call of his name as he made his way towards his steed. Yukimura did think to give up then, to lay down silently and die. No, he could not. That eye, that man's stare, it set a fire inside him that refused to go out. He would survive this, he must! To fight him again, to prove he was worthy. He began to struggle, fingers grasping weakly to the grass, his limbs twitching and mind desperately fighting off the darkness that clouded the edges of his tunneling vision. He had to get up. He had to!

From somewhere past the thud of his own slowing heartbeats in his head and the static that clogged his ears he heard faintly the voice of Masamune calling to his retainer. "Kojuurou!" he called, the voice accompanied by the clap of horse hooves on dry earth. "Take the boy back to Takeda with my regards. It was a **cool party**."

What was he saying? He didn't understand.

A reply came. "Yes, Masamune-sama."

And more. "Kojuurou." A pause. "Make sure he doesn't die."

Silence, the slow clop of hooves retreating. "...As you wish."

"Good." The sound faded, only to be replaced by another – of crisp grass being crushed underfoot, the soft thud of steps getting louder, coming nearer. Through tunneled vision the image of the stern-faced man came into view, hovering, reaching. Yukimura felt himself being lifted by thick, heavy rods, thrown over something sturdy and soft. Vertigo hit him and his vision faded, and with it his consciousness. His last thought before he fell into that inviting darkness was but one word, a single name.

_Date._


	3. The Tiger Lies in Waiting

It was three days before Yukimura awoke again.

Drenched in his own sweat, body far too warm and both bandages and blankets clinging uncomfortably to his bare skin he returned to the waking world. His surroundings were completely black, save for what little light the waning moon would offer with the clouds obscuring it from the Earth's view.

The first ache he registered was that in his stomach, which was both profound and dizzyingly painful. The second were several on his limbs, his chest, back - these did not so much hurt as much as they simply throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Bruises, no doubt. The third stemmed from his neck, and only brief flashes of memory gave him any idea where the wound came from. Even the slightest motion sent a stinging twinge straight down his spine, and thus he decided that any attempts at maneuvering would be a poor move on his part.

From his peripheral he saw that the door to his quarters was open, a lone figure leaning against the frame, watching from the shadows. It startled him at first, caused his shoulders to twitch and give him pain in turn. The twinge of sharp ache was sobering, enough to calm him. Why was he so jumpy? He hardly recalled any reasoning at all. In an effort to relax away his worries, Yukimura called to the figure with voice hoarse. How long had he been in this bed?

"Sasuke...?"

The shinobi knew he was awake before he spoke, and no sooner did Yukimura rasp his name did he find the man at his bedside. "Try not to move too much." Nimble hands pulled the blankets down to his waist, prodding at the damp bandages that were wrapped around his middle, checking his wounds. "How are you feeling?"

The boy's head spun and his throat felt as though he had not a drop to drink in weeks, but otherwise- "I'm fine, Sasuke..." Yukimura did his best to smile for his retainer, whom had undoubtedly stayed at his side while he lay unconscious. The thought crossed his mind yet again of just how long he had been asleep... How long Sasuke had gone without.

"You would say that, wouldn't you, Danna..." chided Sasuke and offered a bit of a tired smile of his own to reassure his young friend. He sensed his worry, the tense air about him. Going through what he had, the man was nothing short of sympathetic. "Wait here and I'll bring you something to eat. After what happened, Oyakata-sama wants you to rest more."

_Oyakata-sama?_ That was right! That night, the state his lord had been left in. Suddenly Yukimura sat bolt upright, ignoring the pain from his multiple injuries in his panic. The battle, the monstrous army, the way he fled into the woods out of fright, and then facing Date alone... "Oyakata-sama! I must find Oyakata-sama and apologize for my cowardly behavior!" he exclaimed with frightened vigor and sought to scramble from his bed, don his armor-

"Whoa, hold on a second!" Sasuke's gloved hands were on his shoulders, pressing him back to the futon with some effort despite the boy's injuries. Best to quell his anxious state before he could further injure himself. "Our lord is safe and well, relax."

But Yukimura's panic did not cease, "Where is he? Has he recovered from his illness?" He was insistent, unrelenting. Had he no sense of self-preservation? He'd nearly been killed and now he wanted to go run off and apologize to an unconscious man?

His actions surprised even Sasuke, who continued to hold him firmly in place. "He's in his quarters being tended by the doctors for his illness."

Finally Yukimura was beginning to calm down, or perhaps he was succumbing to his injured state. Either way, he was quieting down. "And the others? The troops?"

The ninja continued to explain, if only to help Yukimura relax. "The surviving men are being tended to as well. Don't worry about them right now; you have your own injuries to worry about."

Hardly the calming words needed. "No injury is so dire that I cannot bow humbly before my lord and apologize for dishonoring him so!" Yukimura tried to break free of the man's brace to no avail. Sasuke, of course, was not about to let up.

"It's not just that, Danna... You bore the kiss of the Date. You need to give yourself time to heal."

"But I've lost the battle! I was defeated and disgraced the Takeda Army!" How utterly mortifying to perform so shamefully in his first battle as General of the Takeda Army. How could he bare this shame? How could he face his lord?

"Danna, you didn't fail!" the shinobi insisted fervently, so much so that the boy was immediately brought to pause, to stare in silent confusion. Sasuke breathed a sigh and once again began looking over the boy's wounds to make sure he had not torn any stitching open with his flailing. Honestly, what a troublesome thing his charge could be at times. "The Date Army retreated."

The injured warrior gave up his struggles in favor of staring up at his companion in the dim light, his utter bewilderment clear in his fever-bright eyes. "He... What?" the boy choked out – his throat was so dry. "How could that be? I lost to him in battle, should he not be considered the victor?" He just couldn't bring himself to understand. The match had been Date's, clearly. The man had no obligation to retreat, yet he had. He had left Kai with borrowed time. A lingering feeling of self-doubt and wariness fell over the tiger. How long would this gift last? How long under Date returned to claim the head of his lord who lay defenseless in a sickbed?

"That I'm unsure of," Sasuke admitted, his head shaking softly from its hung position. As he continued to speak his hands busied with their work, checking bandages, tugging supplies within easy reach. "But it's true. After you were defeated by the One-Eyed dragon, he pulled back his forces. He even went as far as to have his retainer return you to the front line." The shinobi recalled how the man that they initially assumed was Date Masamune himself and not a vassal had walked fearlessly towards the remaining men with Yukimura slung over his shoulder. Without a word he lay the unconscious general upon the grass before his frightened soldiers, and left, taking the Date troops with him.

Yukimura blinked once, his brows furrowed with disbelief. "His retainer brought me back to camp?" The story was becoming more and more absurd. What general would have the enemy he was sent to kill returned so he may live another day? Was it because he wanted an honest fight without handicaps? Or... Did he want to face Shingen himself, and not his vassal? Oh, the humiliation only continued to build.

"We're fortunate not to lose you. If we weren't on opposite sides, I would have to thank the Date for sparing you." The tension mounted, squaring itself thickly in the cub's bruised shoulders.

"And what does Oyakata-sama think of all this? The Date's retreat, my defeat..." Yukimura was beginning to wonder if he needed to find a blade in which to disembowel himself, and if Shingen should be the one to take his head, or something lower on the scale, just to show his disgrace.

"He's just glad to see you alive." Sasuke stated with a sigh. If he knew his master, he knew just what sort of outlandish ideas were going through his head at that moment. "When he learned you had been defeated he was sure you were dead..."

This was all too much to bear. Even his lord had that little faith in him? He could gut himself right now out of embarrassment, "Sasuke, why did Date Masamune-dono spare me? He had me by the neck...!" To emphasize the proclamation, Yukimura clapped a hand against the bandages on his neck, an action that made him wince and the wound there begin to weep with blood anew.

His hand was gently brushed from his neck, guided to rest in his lap by the exhausted shinobi. The man eyed the wound as if it were something disconcerting – Yukimura picked up on this, which only managed to ruffle his frayed nerves more. The pain intensified with the growing knot in his shoulders. Hoping to ease the boy's plight, the shinobi offered a faint smile. It did little. He sighed. "That's..." -difficult to explain, Sasuke knew, but knowing the honor among the ninja was far different than that of the samurai, he did his best to summarize. "Date is a formidable foe, one that even Oyakata-sama had great difficulty defeating. I cannot say for certain why he spared your life; he could have just as easily taken your head. But instead he left you with his kiss."

Sasuke's fingers drifted to the now bleeding wound, clicking his tongue. New bandages would be needed soon, and a fresh poultice to fight infection. "But know this, Danna. Oyakata-sama has complete confidence in you, and with merit; Kai was spared, and you as well. Our land will see another day." From his neck the hand slid to Yukimura's hair, ruffling the unruly locks much like a brother would to his younger sibling. "If it were not for you charging into the fray, our men would not have had the gall to face the demons of the Date Army. You did well."

A slight blush added to the flush of fever already present on Yukimura's cheeks, the ninja's warm remark soothing him into relaxation. He was not used to such praise from the normally straightforward man. His words, simple as they were, moved him deeply. "So in the end, we won even though I had already fallen..." His own musings on the matter were bitter, regretful, but there was still a smile upon his face. Upset as he was, his friend had helped him feel just a bit better. "Do you still believe me an honorable warrior, Sasuke?" Such an innocent question, and with those puppy brown eyes upon Sasuke's deep grey, he could not deny him an answer.

"Danna, we could not have claimed this brief victory without you, " he assured. "Whatever it was that the One-Eyed Dragon of Oushuu saw in you kept him from moving forward and taking Kai. Countless lives were saved due to your actions, even if they were reckless." Always frank, that Sasuke, "So yes, I believe you are still an honorable warrior, as do the others."

Even his exhaustion could not keep the tears of happiness at bay, "I'm glad..." His sobs brought forth a wave of dizziness that washed over him and suddenly Yukimura was finding it difficult to keep his eyes focused on his companion in the darkness. It must have been the blood loss from his wounds, he thought, "I don't think I could bear it if I disgraced the name of Takeda-"

"If you keep that attitude up—" Sasuke cut him off with a stout verbal jibe "-Oyakata-sama is likely to rise from his sickbed just to send you flying into a wall." And right he was. Whenever Yukimura began to deprecate himself, Takeda had always shown him he was wrong... with his fists. It was a gesture of love, he was sure, from someone who had raised Yukimura from childhood as if he was his own son, taking him in graciously when even his own father and brother left to tend their own lands. It was this way that Yukimura knew best.

The blanket was brought over the boy's battered body, Sasuke making sure he was comfortable before he rose to retrieve bandages and water. "For now, we'll play it by ear. My scouts are keeping an eye on the Date's movements, so please take this time to recover. You lost a lot of blood."

"Did I?" Yukimura winced as he recalled the memory, faint as it was, like a hazy dream he struggled to recall in waking; Date pinning him to the tree, his face nearing his, and then... Yukimura's hand snaked to the wound in his side, still tender even though days had passed. Was he really so careless that he did not realize the danger he had put his body in until it was too late? Was that why he had collapsed after Date claimed his 'kiss'?

Sasuke had to smile at Yukimura's naiveté, though bitterly. He left the room briefly, just long enough to fetch a servant, give the order to gather fresh bandages and a bowl of cool water. "Not enough to kill you, clearly," he called back over his shoulder, "but plenty enough to keep you in bed for a few days." A hint, no doubt, given his tone.

"Are we in danger of being attacked?" the boy piped up - Yukimura's way of asking if he could join in if another battle were to erupt. It was then that Sasuke's expression turned solemn. Yukimura was far too eager, too filled with longing for a battle that could only end in defeat. His musings prolonged a weighty silence, one that wore on them both.

The servant soon returned and Sasuke received the items requested with a nod of thanks. A quick bow was given and the young woman left swiftly to attend other business without a single word. Curious. Was she not concerned with the state of their young lord that she would see fit to not even mention it? No, it was something else, the ninja knew. He had heard the talk that had spread through the manner the last few days, the whispers. Unrest was already brewing. A gentle sigh passed the ninja's lips and he returned to Yukimura's side. It was useless to entertain such thoughts now when the boy needed care.

"We have not noticed any movement, but we are wary. Some unusual things happened after both sides had retreated." Sasuke set out the supplies he had been given at Yukimura's bedside, lit a single candle before he set to his task. "Can you sit up, Danna?"

Yukimura did not hesitate in the least; he forced himself upright once more, biting back a yelp of pain that stemmed from the action. Thankfully Sasuke was quick to seat himself behind his master, allowing him to rest against him while he worked.

The ninja continued his report while cleaning the samurai's wounds. "I sent my scouts to survey the area after the battle. Their findings were...unusual." A cool cloth was pressed against the fresh stitching of Yukimura's wound, carefully cleaning it of healing fluids, sweat and dirt. The cub could feel the tension leaving his body as he was gently cared for by the older man, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "What did they find?"

"Those we lost in the fray... We could not recover many of the bodies. The ones we did find were badly mauled or dismembered." The tension immediately returned; their bodies were missing? Who would desecrate a fallen soldier like that? "We think it may have to do with the unusual soldiers in their employ."

Yukimura recalled the horrific warriors he faced while fighting his way through the throng. No light in their eyes, their bodies moving unnaturally... And perhaps most frightening was how they would simply get up again even after sustaining fatal wounds. The memory of those cold hands on his skin, those broken teeth set upon lifeless maws that stuck into his flesh. A wave of nausea filled his stomach and Yukimura had to hold his breath to keep from becoming violently ill.

"Danna?" His discomfort apparent, Sasuke paused in his ministration to peer at his master in the dim light. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Those soldiers we faced... They were not normal," murmured Yukimura, skirting Sasuke's question entirely. "It is no wonder that Oyakata-sama had such difficult time fighting them." Sasuke took pause, watched his young master with a careful eye but a moment. He thought to scold him on the inconsiderate ways of lying, but thought better of it. It wouldn't do much good, anyhow. Not with the boy in the state he was in, injured and looking positively green from merely the mention of the fray.

The ninja returned to his work. With Yukimura's stomach wound cleaned, Sasuke wrapped fresh bandages around his middle before gently laying him upon the futon again. Next was the wound around his neck that had begun bleeding once more.

The bandages were pulled away and fresh blood trickled down Yukimura's neck, startling the young samurai. "When was my neck cut?"

Sasuke did not immediately answer, instead quickly cleaning the blood away before applying a fresh layer of the herbal poultice to the wound. It hardly had time to stick before the wound continued to weep. Such was the nature of this wound, he knew. Sasuke cleaned it again, applied more poultice, and replied: "I'm not sure. You don't remember?"

"No..." Yukimura was quite sure he would remember being injured at such a vital point. Sasuke's reaction to the wound was worrisome as well. "Is it bad?"

_He's blocking out the memory..__._ The ninja could have only imagined why, after all Yukimura had endured that night, what he'd bared witness to. "It isn't big, but it's deep." One hand held the poultice in place while the other began wrapping the bandages around the young man's neck. "Date Masamune is a dangerous foe. He is capable of things we as normal soldiers cannot fathom."

Again that smile crept to Yukimura's lips, faint but pleasant. Sasuke knew that look; in spite of the life-threatening injuries he had incurred, he could tell that Yukimura had not lost his fighting spirit. Even in the face of an enemy that even Takeda Shingen feared, Yukimura still felt the drive to push forward, taking on the enemy to prove his skills. The exhilaration one could only feel when facing a worthy foe in battle... that was what Yukimura craved. "Date Masamune-dono... What a truly ferocious warrior..." He could not withhold the excitement from his voice, "I wish to fight him again!" Sasuke could only stare in fret as he spoke.

That fight with Date... it was the first time Yukimura had been able to show his abilities to their fullest extent, the first time a match had made him feel more alive than before. Throughout their fight he could feel his soul blazing with passion for battle, having faced a warrior as great as Date Masamune. Now, even though the battle was not about personal desires, but protecting the land he loved, Yukimura wished to feel those sensations again.

With a great sigh his friend pat his fluffy head. "Just don't go doing anything rash, Danna. You want a rematch now, but we still have to protect our borders until we can properly face the Date again. We need you more than Date does."

As tired as he was, Yukimura still smiled for his friend as he moved from wound to wound, making sure to properly clean each one. "Thank you, Sasuke, for believing in me."

"Huh? Since when do I not?" The grin was returned, Sasuke reaching up to ruffle Yukimura's messy hair again. With his wounds properly tended to, the ninja packed up his supplies and extinguished the candle. "Get some sleep, Danna. I'll report in when I find something."

The night fell over him again, but even with the darkness surrounding him, Yukimura found himself completely unable to sleep. So excited was he of the prospect of seeing Date Masamune again, facing him in a battle where their very souls could shine at their fullest potential. It was no longer a matter of preserving the honor and position he held in the Takeda Army, but a matter of settling a personal score.

_Date Masamune-dono... I wish to face you again soon._

"Masamune-sama, I've been meaning to ask you…"

"Ah? What is it, Kojuurou?"

Not far from Kofu, not all that far from the battlefield himself the dragons took refuge in a series of mining caves, dug into the mountain long ago and since abandoned. A perfect place for Date to rest his weary form and gather strength. He stood now at the mouth of the cave. His shoulder rest against the etched wall, hip cocked and body leaning slightly to rest against it. His eye stared to the heavens, to the peaceful waning moon, the clouds that blotted out the stars as they floated past. How strangely serene for a man said to be a terror and a demon to be smote.

Katakura Kojuurou was busied with the task of an evening meal. He knelt before a small fire just a few meters inside the wide-mouthed cave. A hotpot was hung over the flame, inside it a soup of thin broth, cuts of seared meat, vegetables and noodles – Sukiyaki, one of Date's favorites. As he slowly stirred the mixture Kojuurou watched his lord, contemplated his words. Something had been bothering him since that night, something he'd wished to address but had failed to mention. Being settled as they were now, it seemed a better opportunity.

The only issue now was his concern over offending the brash young man he knew so little about. "Forgive my bold words, Masamune-sama, but why did you spare the cub?" Bold indeed, to question the orders of your lord. Masamune felt himself grin. Why had he spared the boy?

He himself honestly didn't know. "A whim, probably," he replied over his shoulder before returning his sights to the sky above. It would be dawn soon. Best to eat quickly and get some sleep. But his thoughts drifted back to the boy he'd left invalid once more. A good argument had been brought up, one to be pondered; his reasons for sparing the cub, for seeing to it that he would live another day. It was a move of compassion, not a flight of fancy. He'd watched that boy struggle to save his home, show both bravery and skill in the face of a monster.

No, that wasn't the reason. It had been after the battle was won, after he'd held him in that embrace of death and left him to bleed. That fire, that resolve. Masamune had been overwhelmed by it, by his refusal to die. As he'd had that neck in his mouth, that thundering heart in his ears that had refused to slow he'd become swept away in its sound, felt himself scorched by the heat of his ambition, his very soul. What was it that made the cub burn so brightly? What gave him such resolve, such a desperate will to live that even drained and dying he would reach for his opponent, will himself upward to fight yet again?

Masamune's body shivered with his desideratum, his head swam. His grin widened. He wanted to find out. He wanted to know what drove the cub. He wanted to fight him again. So strong was this need that it made his pulse quicken, made his skin crawl with anxious want.

His retainer's voice brought him swiftly back to reality. "The food is ready now, Masamune-sama. Please come eat." The dragon breathed a soft snort from his nose. Like this Kojuurou sounded almost motherly, so concerned over him. It reminded him of his predecessor, of the man's father. The memory brought a faint, solemn smile to his face.

"Yeah..." It was gone as soon as it came. "Coming." The dragon turned from his star gazing and headed inside the cave. He came to sit beside his retainer, his back turned from the firelight. Even though most of it was blocked his one eye was squinted, evading the brightness which any normal man would find little more than pleasant. A small wooden bowl was presented to him, a pair of hashi which he accepted gratefully with a nod. One was given in turn and Kojuurou returned to his work to serve his own meal. Though he was dissatisfied by Masamune's answer and actions, he would not allow personal feelings to effect his duties.

Masamune had to admire him that. They ate their meals in silence save for the occasional awkward slurping of noodles and loud sips of broth. Both were contemplative, both thinking toward the near future. A battle plan would need to be made for the previous one had gone array. Masamune had been insistent in giving the tiger time enough to recover for a real fight for his life, for his lands. It was the honorable thing to do.

Ah, but what to do now. He hated just sitting around. Masamune considered his options as he sipped his broth. Then an idea came to him. "Utsunomiya Hirotsuna." The break in silence was so abrupt that the retainer blinked in start, turned to his young lord.

"Sir?"

Masamune was grinning again when he turned his squinted gaze to Kojuurou. "In Kanagawa," he continued, lowering his bowl to give the man his full attention. "He's young and weak. Hardly a contender for the unification of the country." Little more than a stepping stone, then. An unnecessary expenditure of time and effort. Kojuurou had to question this move.

"So then why take the time when it would be of no benefit to our cause?" Masamune laughed. Kojuurou was always so uptight, so rigid. Perhaps that was what he liked about him. He was grounding, a firm foundation for his own childish desires and brazen temperament. They complimented each other well.

With a shrug, he continued. "Just bored, mostly," he admitted and went back to his meal. There was a long silence that passed between them – Masamune took the time to savor the remainder of his meal, to take in the texture of the noodles, the warm, rich flavor of the thin broth. With the last bite of meat being ingested he handed the empty bowl back to his retainer, who brows were knitted ever so slightly. Masamune couldn't help but smirk with amusement. A good ground, indeed. "But he's got all that land and plenty of inexperienced soldiers. The only real threat is his tiger pets he keeps."

Now things were coming into place. Masamune wanted the men and intended to take this sabbatical opportunity to obtain ranks. A good strategy – they had lost too many men in the recent battle against the Takeda. The idea pleased Kojuurou; his smile said as much.

With a single nod he served his lord another helping, to which Masamune accepted happily. The sukiyaki was superb. Kojuurou was an astoundingly good cook, which the dragon was thankful for. His father hadn't been.

His retainer returned to his own meal. "If we are to go along with this strategy, when will it take place?" Plans had to be made, the men had to be gathered.

"Tomorrow at dusk."

The man nodded, glanced the dragon's way. "It will be draining on you," he warned in something of a fatherly tone, caring. Masamune smiled.

"I'll live."

A new day had begun without incident. Slowly the townsfolk resumed their normal routines. Shopkeeps put out their goods to display, soldiers went about their morning training regimes. Even the servants in the castle had returned to their usual duties. It would seem peace had come over Kai once more. Since that fateful battle, the Date clan had not made any more moves against the Takeda. There was relief to be found in this fact; war was not imminent, and it gave the soldiers of Kai time to rest and recover from the battle that had lost them so many.

Buy still there lingered a sense of unrest among the within the town, within its people. Children were still called indoors by fretful parents past the twilight hours. Soldiers opted to remain home with their families in town rather than in the barracks, fearful of the dangers their wives may face after dusk. What's more, the elderly would hardly leave their houses at all. The elders knew that the great Date Masamune would not give up so easily, and though it would seem for the time being he had retreated, he would undoubtedly return.

Furthermore, Kai's beloved cub bore the Dragon's kiss and had yet to fully recover. Rumors flew around the village of the boy's condition; was he completely bedridden, hanging on for life by a thread? Or was there something more sinister happening to the young cub of Kai? It placed the town on edge, especially knowing that the Date could emerge at any time to attempt to retake Kai.

Yukimura, on the other hand, was utterly unaware of the uneasiness in town, instead focused on speeding his recovery through sheer force of will. The boy was still healing from his near fatal wound that put him out of commission during the battle with the Date, but that didn't stop him from pursuing his normal routine, in spite of his retainer's pleas for him to stay still.

"I'm going into town," the cub announced, already dressing and readying himself to leave. Sasuke stood a short distance away, flustered over his lord's stubbornness. He could have at least ask for help in dressing. He was still injured and doing a sloppy job of it. The shinobi tried to persuade him for the 'nth time since that morning's breakfast to remain and care for his wounds.

"Danna, you should reconsider. You've only barely been able to walk since yesterday." But there was nothing to come of it; once Yukimura had made his mind up about something there was no stopping him, save for the words of his lord, who was still recovering from his illness.

It was a poor situation all around; the cub refusing to stay put, to admit that he was in pain, to inform his retainer when a spell of dizziness would wash over him like a wave and nearly send him to the ground. He had lost a lot of blood, Sasuke had said, enough to kill any normal man, surly. His insistence to remain upright, even brave a trip to town was all the more infuriating to the ninja, but none so much as his reply – did he care nothing for his own health?!

"I'm fine, Sasuke," he assured and toed on his geta at the door. The ninja watched him close with arms crossed over his chest disappointedly, looking for any sign to deny him. He was still unwell; it wasn't all that difficult to see. It was subtle – a light falter of balance while slipping his shoes on, the way he absently scratched at the bandages around his neck, over that wound. Sasuke could already see that it was bleeding again, though the young samurai took no notice of it. The ninja moved to stop him, to tell him he was unfit for such an errand, but those eyes won over his resolve. The way Yukimura looked at him with such pleading in his fever-bright eyes as he turned to face him truly did the man in. The once brave and too-loud tiger cub was declawed, a kitten begging a chance to regain some sense of his former self- "I just wanted to visit Saeki-san and have some dango."—What could the man do?

_It would figure the driving force behind his motivation was sweets_, Sasuke thought wryly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed almost dramatically, as if to convey to the cub his irritation. But in the end, he consented. There was no used in trying to stop him, regardless. If not from him, Yukimura would just find another way to gain permission to go into town. "Fine," he spoke with a distinct hint of exhaustion, and his gaze returned to his master. Confronted with that pitiful look on the cubs face, Sasuke couldn't help but lighten his expression. Yukimura needed it more than frowns just now. "But don't push yourself too much, all right, danna?"

Yukimura brightened considerably at his words, offered a warm, if not tired smile, and a firm nod of agreement. "Yes!" he said with vigor, almost as if it were a pledge, one he dutifully kept in mind as he made his way out of the castle grounds and down the long pathway into town. He had to behave, had to recover his strength and his health. He couldn't disgrace himself again. What would his lord, Sasuke, the soldiers think of him if he did? No, he had to persevere, and the path to recovery began with dango.

He walked along the pathway with a bit of a bounce in his step, or as much as he could manage in his condition, and a jovial smile on his face. He was in a much better mood now that he was able to move about freely. Being bedridden was no easy feat for the energetic tiger cub, more so when there was so much on his mind. The battle with the Date, their leader sparing his life, his desire to fight the man once again to prove his strength and make his lord proud… All this made him anxious, and a long walk around the town would help clear his head.

The winding path from the castle courtyard to the village only took a few minutes to traverse. Once there he was surrounded by the liveliness that always brought him comfort; children playing, old ladies chatting amongst themselves at the market stalls, handmaidens going about their duties. It gave Yukimura a sense of relief to see everything so… _normal_. He had missed normalcy the last few days. Things hadn't been the same since that night. It still made him shudder to think of. The energy of the town and the people bustling along gave him peace, filled him with warmth he hadn't felt in days. Everything was good here, people were happy, and nothing could ruin that.

That was, until said people caught sight of the young cub.

Normally the townsfolk would treat him warmly not because he was a vassal of Takeda, but because they genuinely enjoyed his presence. Yukimura was known for his warm, gentle spirit, his vibrant and cheerful personality that everyone seemed to appreciate in these darker times. Today that seemed to not be the case. Once he stepped into the bazaar, the old ladies grew quiet, turned to see him and then chattered in hushed tones. They did not greet him as they always had, did not so much as look his way. They went so far as to purposefully avert their gaze whenever he'd walk by, acting as if engrossed in their own activities. It irked the tiger. As he continued on down the path it was the same story, everyone turning away, acting as if he wasn't there or watching him with wary gazes. The wariness was almost worse than being avoided, like he was being leered at, as if he'd done something wrong or was some kind of stray, mange filled beast.

Yukimura could not fathom why the townsfolk were suddenly avoiding him. It was as if they were… afraid of him. It hurt, it really did. Was this because of his failure to Takeda? To his clan and his people? His heart ached at the idea. To imagine this was because of his failure – all of his anxious thoughts from the past few days returned, the feelings of despair. The promise of dango was hardly enough to arouse any sort of joviality it him now. With a heavy heart and his chin up for honors sake alone, he carried on.

The cub stopped into his usual stand, picking up a platter of dango to take back to the castle. Dango had always made him feel better even in the roughest times. Hopefully it could cure the ails of his self-confidence today. He didn't count on it. "Hello, Saeki-san," he greeted the woman behind the stand, one he had known well since the beginning of his vasselship with the Takeda. She had been good to him in those years, often gave him leftover dango when he was feeling lonely or gave him someone to talk to before he had established any real friends in the castle. He had seen her marry, watched her family grow.

Today, however, she didn't turn to look at him. Instead she faced the counter she worked on and continued to knead the dough for dumplings. There was that sting again, that bitter feeling. Even an old friend was ignoring him. How cruel. He thought to leave, to go home with his head hanging and let the woman continue her work before she spoke. "Are you here for dango today, Sanada-kun?" Hardly a question really aimed at him, it almost felt as if she may as well have been talking to aim with how apathetic her tone was.

Yukimura felt himself physically wince. He struggled to respond. "Yes, ma'am." Perhaps it wasn't too bad an idea to leave the woman to her work. She obviously wanted no part of his presence. No, that wasn't the way to think, surely. This was just in his head. The town was restless because of the near-invasion some nights before. It had nothing to do with him. Yukimura fished out his coin purse, pulled a few coins to give to the woman in exchange for the treats as he forced a smile on his face and thought of enjoying his sweets as he walked. It wasn't more than a few seconds before the joyful smile became genuine. He became giddy with anticipation. _How much was it, again… Three…Four…_

A tray was clattered onto the counter before he could finish picking out his coins, to which Yukimura looked up to offer thanks. The words caught in his throat. The woman left the small wooden tray piled high with sweet mitarashi dango, turned her back to him and returned to her work. Not once did Saeki look his way. The smile faltered, and with her words was lost all together. "It's on the house today. Please give my regards to Takeda-sama." And that was it. No kind smiles, no playful chatter about how her children were growing, new recipes she had tried, nothing.

Yukimura lowered his gaze, gathered up the tray with a trembling hand. He muttered a soft thank you as he turned and walked away from the stand, leaving the usual amount of coin on the counter. Feeling suddenly much less enthused about his little outing the cub continued to his walk through the town, looping around the bazaar and back towards the castle. He passed more shops, more citizens that were normally warm to him suddenly turn a cold shoulder. Why? Why wouldn't they look at him? Was it truly as he'd suspected? Was it because he was a disgrace? How far he had fallen in only the course of one night. How perfectly cruel it was that he had been spared, that Date had seen to it he would live another day. Had the dragon done this to force him to live with the consequences of his actions, to remain a sullied warrior with damaged honor?

His heart ached once more.

"Sanada-kun!" For the first time since stepping outside the castle walls someone acknowledged him. Yukimura heart skipped a beat. Like a gift from the heavens, something as simple as acknowledgement elated him. He stopped mid-step and turned to see a young maiko, one he recognized as Saeki's youngest daughter, hurrying up to him. Curious, the boy's brows furrowed slightly, his lips pursed a touch. Why was it that Saeki send her daughter out to find him? "Ah, Shizuka-san. Sorry, did I not leave enough coin?"

The girl said nothing as she dashed up to meet him, only too his hand and thrust something into it before immediately backing off. Surprised by her rather out of character actions, Yukimura thought to ask what was wrong, why she looked so scared. The item that had been gifted gave some hint. It was a charm, a small wooden placard an inch by three, carved intricately with inscriptions and had a small piece of cotton chord hanging from the top. A protective ward from the local temple? Why every would she give him something like that? "W-what's this?" he inquired almost nervously, his eyes staring with abstract concern at the charm in his hand.

It was as if a switch had been turned – no longer did the child stand stiffly, panting lightly from running and her face white as a sheet. She was active now, mobile, and anxious. "Mother asked me to deliver that. Please get well soon!" She spoke quickly, almost too quickly, and dashed off towards home before the boy could say so much as a thank you. Yukimura stared at her back as she hurried away, completely perplexed by her actions.

Strange. Everyone was acting strange!

"Sasuke?" As he made his way back, Yukimura called to his retainer, having known all along that he'd been spying on him from the trees and following him in the shadows. For his safety, of course, he would say. Yukimura knew the ninja had expected him to collapse while he walked about the market. Hurtful, to assume he had been weakened so much, but there were other matters.

The shinobi appeared just a few seconds after his call, hopping down form a nearby tree to land effortlessly on ground before the cub. "What is it, Danna?" he asked, though he had an idea why he had been called out, of course. He'd watched closely as his charge had made his rounds, seen as he'd been shunned, dejected. He sought to comfort his friend and cast a sympathetic gaze his way. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Unfortunately, it did little good. Yukimura was already worked up. "What's going on? Why is everyone looking at me as if I'll strike them down?" That was the only way he could describe it; they looked at him as if he was likely to lash out at any moment like some feral beast. It sickened him. All the people he'd known since he was a child had seemingly turned on him, all because of one mistake.

Sasuke's explanation hardly helped matters. "It's because of superstition, Danna," he stated plainly. Yukimura seemed less than put at ease by this news by the look he was giving the ninja. Sasuke let out a slow, deep breath and guided his charge with a gesture back towards the castle grounds. "C'mon, let's go back." The boy simply nodded and followed his lead, doing his best to keep pace with his friend. It was just so difficult not to drag ones feet with the despair he felt looming over him.

As they continued up the pathway Yukimura continued to stare at the wooden charm Shizuka had given him. He was perplexed, dejected and anxious. What had he said before? Superstition was the cause of his treatment by the people in town? He couldn't help but wonder what it had to do with anything. Seeking answers, he questioned Sasuke. "Superstition?"

The man shrugged broadly and stretched languorously, allowing his hands to fall back behind his head, where he linked fingers and allowed them to rest against the back of his neck. _How to explain to Yukimura_, he thought. Directly would achieve the best result, and direct he was. "You were bitten by Date Masamune," he began, "who is said to be a demon. In turn, hey fear you will become a demon yourself." Straightforward and blunt as always – it was the way he had to be with the kid often. It was the only way to get him to understand. "There are tales that if you bear the Date's kiss, that you turn into a monster." Grey eyes glanced the cub's way, gauging his reaction.

Monsters… Glimmers of memories from that night filled the forefront of his mind, the ghoulish creatures that were cut down only to rise again. He was terrified to imagine. Was that the sort of monster they thought he'd become? "But… I am not a monster! If I was, I would have…" He shook his head vigorously and nearly dropped his dango in the process.

A gloved hand squeezed his shoulder, coaxing him to be calm. The boy tensed at the touch, his own eyes shot up to meet those of his retainer. Sasuke was just standing there at his side offering him a comforting smile. "Relax, Danna," he said and Yukimura felt all the tension leave him. Everything was fine, so said Sasuke's eyes. Everything would be well. Here was someone who would never up and leave him, who had and would be there for him through the best and the worst. A true friend, someone he could depend on. That made the boy feel a whole lot better. "The villagers are just restless after all that happened. They'll come around." A promise of better times – that alone made things better.

But Yukimura couldn't help but wonder. To have the people he grew up around suddenly fearful of him… It hurt to think about. The boy once again found himself staring at the wooden charm which was likely something Saeki had kept around for luck and had given him for the same. Perhaps they were not so much scared as they were worried for his safety? It was hardly comforting as Sasuke's pep-talk but it did give him some small hope.

With a great, deflating sigh he pocketed the charm, and the two continued their way back towards the castle.

The better half of a week passed and Yukimura made no more attempts at venturing into town. Instead he spent his time doing what little he could without doing himself further injury and prolonging his already agonizingly long – to him – recovery time. He would do light exercise in the courtyard, stretching and walked as often as his retainer would allow, all to regain the strength lost during the battle with the Date. It was slow going thanks to the sizeable wound left in his abdomen. He had still yet to truly take up his spears again, the weight of them, however negligible while uninjured, caused him pain in his side.

In the end he was forced to return to his quarters and rest, which only served to leave Yukimura fidgety and anxious. It gave him time to reflect, to give pause and that in itself was distasteful to the young warrior. He was ashamed with his condition, frustrated that he could not train alongside the men entrusted to him, to show his support and his burning drive to fight on their behalf. Instead he was confined to his bed, yet again, as he had been every eve since the incident had occurred.

Tea had been prepared and left, a small serving of food beside it at his mat-side, brought by yet another servant who would not look his way and exited all too quickly. The food had remained untouched, Yukimura feeling thoroughly uninterested. A bit of tea had been taken only, for warmth. It was so chilly these days. Winter would arrive soon, and with it snow would come and blanket the land, covering up all remains of that night, of any hint of war, and hold the land in a pure white innocence until spring.

There was loneliness in this thought. Beyond the loneliness he already felt within his small room away from the main house. Beyond the avoidance and the visits from Sasuke that were growing steadily rarer. Winter would hold the land in a standstill. More than a week had gone by since his faithful encounter with the Date and the army had yet to return, to have so much as a mention or hint of its residence in their lands. He would not return until spring, Yukimura knew that well. No general in their right mind would conduct an attack in the middle of winter. Nay, he must have returned home and gathered forces.

Yukimura would not engage the dragon again until the next year. An ache tugged at his heart, one that surprised the cub. This tug, this weight was one he hadn't felt since childhood, something that had been all but forgotten, bottled. Since that time when—

_Masamune-dono…_ the boy mused to no one at all, really. _Have you given up so easily? I would have imagined you a greater general than that… _His thoughts were humdrum, just a little spiteful. He was upset, melancholy that such a battle could cause such unrest, such mistrust, aimed all towards him. He felt abandoned.

He gazed from his seated position upon his bed mat, towards the open window in the far wall, to the moon just behind it. A crescent moon, just like that night. It would be gone soon, shrouded in shadow as it waited to be born anew once more. His expression deepened slightly, his brows furrowed somewhat, making him appear all the more dejected, lost like a child alone in a deep wood. _What are you doing right now?_

Overhead he heard a soft thump, the sounds of footsteps against the roofing shingles. Ah, Sasuke must have been back from his duties to check on him. His brow tightened again. Yukimura realized he didn't want to see the ninja just then. Quickly and quietly he snuffed the candle and slipped under the thick yogi and closed his eyes, listened. Thump, thump, a pause, silence, then the sharp snap of feet hitting gravel from above. Another slight pause, then the footsteps neared. Tap tap across the gravel then thump thump as the person came to the steps, up on the engawa, to the threshold of his doorway. Footfalls so light, almost like those of a cat, that they could be no others than Sasuke's.

The voice from behind the shoji door confirmed it. "Danna?" the man called, though he did not enter. "Are you awake?" Yukimura did not respond, but lay silent and still as if he were dreaming, and waited. There was a soft shift of weight, the faintest creak of wood underfoot, the rustle of cloth and whisper of metal and leather. A sigh. "At least you're resting…" came a mutter and finally the ninja moved to leave, much to his young charge's relief.

The boy was still until he could no longer make out the mans steps, waited just a few moments more. Once it was safe he let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and opened his eyes to stare blindly at the ceiling above him. He felt bad for deceiving Sasuke, of course. He wasn't even sure why he hadn't wanted to see him. He wanted his peace now, after days of displeasure at even the idea of it. He wanted the quiet, but most of all, he didn't want to talk. He knew the man wouldn't understand, would try to coax his mood to lighten to offer him more tea, or sweets or to comb his hair for him. Yukimura would have none of it. So he lay there and let his mind wander as he listened to the sounds of the night; the people passing by, servants and guards alike, the rustling of trees swaying in the wind, an owl not far off hooting to the night.

Then another sound hit his senses, one that startled him somewhat. A series of light thuds against the roof, two, maybe three sets of steps dashing along. Then there was silence briefly, then words, hushed but urgent. He sat up with some difficulty, alarmed and curious. Two shadows could be seen against the thick rice paper of the doors, two more not far off. What was happening? He crept closer, just barely able to make out what they were saying. But he knew whom it was; Sasuke and one of the other nine under his command, voices he knew well. He paused, hid himself in the shadows of the dark room, and listened.

"Whatever you do, don't let Sanada-danna know."

Upon hearing his name the cub had to hold himself from breaking his silence, to ask why. What must he not know? What secret was so vital that it must be kept from him? Patience, he told himself. Patience would award him his answers. He continue to listen. "Keep patrolling the area. Document his movements and report your findings directly to myself only. But unless he makes a move towards Kai or if you're spotted do not engage him or his retainer."

"Sensei, with all due respect, are you sure that is wise?" One of the pupils spoke up from her knelt position before her teacher, "If the Date clan leader has set up camp at outside the North Border Gate, should we not strike while he is alone?"

Date? Date was at the North Border Gate?! Alone?! "Our forces are weak right now," Sasuke replied, the tension clear in his voice. "The soldiers are still recovering from the previous assault. And with both Oyakata-sama and Sanada-danna still recovering, we'd be sitting ducks." The man breathed a stressed sigh and there was silence again. No one moved nor spoke. All waited for their leader, for his counsel, his decision. "And from what our sources say, he may appear alone when he anything but." A difficult choice, yes, but one that was necessary. Another pause, a shift of feet. "Return to your posts around the border. Keep close watch on him and alert me to any movements immediately."

"Yes, sir!" The three ninja said in unison and flit off into the night. Sasuke, too, disappeared from the boys doorway, off to take care of his own matters. Yukimura was left reeling from his knelt position by the door. Date, the man whom he'd longed to see, longed to do battle with once again was barely a few kilometers march from his very position. His musings, nay, his prayer had been answered surely.

His hands shook, his palms sweat as he took all this in. It didn't make sense, none of it. Why would the general and his army all but disappear for nearly two weeks only to have Date return alone with only his retainer at his command? And why did Sasuke insist on doing nothing if he was alone, and practically in their back yard. Without backing or not the man was an enemy, one whom had attacked their lands brutally and would surely do so again!

Then, a thought. A terrible thought. _If I go to the North Border Gate, I could face Date Masamune head on and defeat him without his soldiers to intervene!_

"Yes! That is exactly what I shall do!" Yukimura proclaimed in a hushed whisper, filled with vigor anew. With the moon rising behind him he stole into the armory and threw on his weapons and hidden armor. He dressed as silently as possible, hushed his grunts and pained gasps at his fervidly paced movements. He was unfit for battle – he knew it deep in his mind. He cared not. This would work, it had to. He would confront the Date and present the head of the demon to his lord as penance, regain his honor and wash the shame of his defeat from his fizzling spirit.

With his mind firmly set he lifted his jumonji-yori from their place on the rack, having to stifle a sharp cry of pain as he drew them to his person. Reality threatened to weigh on him, the heavy, sinking realization that he was still deeply wounded, that this fight may very well end him. He was marching to his death. No, that was no the way a warrior thought. He assured himself that all would be well, that he would defeat the dragon. If death found him on the battlefield that eve then he could say it was worth it, that it was his time, and take comfort that his bravery would honor the Takeda clan.

Not once did he allow these encouraging thoughts to waiver as he snuck from the palace, through the woods and out the back pathway towards the north. He would make it, he would do battle and win, and neither pain nor weakness nor loss of hope would stop him.

_I'm coming for you__…__ Date Masamune!_


End file.
